


Fenders Joins the Inquisition

by protect-him (dooliandrake)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Canon Divergence, Danarius being an Asshole, I hope it's implied enough, I said I wouldn't write Mpreg yet here we are, Implied Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Infant Death, M/M, Mpreg, Post-Dragon Age II, probably not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 03:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8561425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dooliandrake/pseuds/protect-him
Summary: After Kirkwall, Fenris and Anders left together, but ended up going separate ways, at some point, neither of them particularly pleased to do so. Danarius survived, somehow, to everyone's regret, and has made a nuisance of himself again. The moral of the story is: Let's save Fenris!





	

**Author's Note:**

> I never, ever, _ever_ thought I'd write either mpreg or Alpha/Beta/Omega, but well...here we are. It's fairly mild, really, since I'm not all that familiar with it, but that's what we have. So yeah. I am playing Inquisition now and I don't feel like Anders is appreciated very much, so I am appreciating him as best I can here.
> 
> This is the product of a very boring day at work.

“Dorian, you go in, please.” Bull backed away. “I can't.”

“Scared?” Dorian mocked.

“It's an Omega. I can smell him all the way from out here.”

Dorian is a Beta. He won't be so overwhelmed by his instincts walking in on an omega. So he pushes the door open carefully.

The elf curled up in the center of the floor is not only an omega, but he's also very pregnant. He's probably only got weeks left. Dorian notes the single shackle around the thin ankle and the leading chain with little surprise. An elf and an omega could be little more than a slave in the house of a Magister. It Is the elf’s appearance that gave Dorian pause.

White hair and skin covered in swirling white markings that could be mistaken for tattoos. But Dorian knows that smell. Lyrium. What  _ is _ this?

He kneels to examine the pregnant omega. He is in a bad state. Omegas need a comfortable place to settle while pregnant, and this one has apparently been in this cell for some time with nothing but a bit of straw. His body must be aching. His hands clutch at his swollen stomach.

“Hello there,” Dorian says softly. The elf flinches at his touch. His skin is hot and Dorian can feel the hum of the lyrium. A bad state indeed.

The Magister had escaped, and Varric had been grave after watching him go.

“I could swear I've seen that man before,” he had muttered. Varric is now somewhere else, looking for chests to loot. Dorian needs him back though. He can't remove the manacle on his own.

“Bull!”

“I still can't come in.”

“I need Varric!”

“Got it.”

Varric is fazed by very little, but he pales when he sees the elf. He runs forward.

“Fenris?”

The elf opens his eyes at hearing his name. He looks stunned.

Varric has the lock picked in seconds.

“We need to get him to Hawke.”

“Are you sure he's fit to travel?”

Varric sighs.

“He can't stay here.”

“There's a wagon in the courtyard,” Dorian says, rising. “I'll see that it's properly fitted to carry him.”

Fenris can stand, but only barely.

Once Dorian has left, Varric asks him quietly whose child he's carrying.

“D-Danarius,” Fenris whispers, the pain evident in every line on his face.

Dorian is very meticulous about the traveling accommodations. He's not satisfied until the bed of the wagon is packed with thick blankets and pillows scrounged from every corner of the fortress. The wagon is enclosed, fortunately, and will keep his scent contained, but the journey is still a slow and painful one.

“Do you think he'll bear the child?” Bull asks Dorian as they travel.

“It is difficult to know. If he has spent his entire pregnancy in that cell, he's got to be exhausted and in more than a good deal of pain. It’s also more difficult for a man to have a successful birth. Our hips just aren't so well prepared for that kind of thing. It's still possible, though, if we take care of him.”

Bull goes ahead the morning of their arrival to find Hawke, who is milling somewhere on the battlements.

“You have been slow to return,” Hawke says. He's a sizable man, but is still dwarfed by Bull’s bulk.

“Thanks to a matter which I hear concerns you,” Bull says. “Varric is asking if we may prepare a place in your room for a pregnant omega we rescued. He says you know him.”

“Omega?”

“Name of Fenris.”

“Fenris is  _ pregnant _ ?”

“Pretty far along, it seems, and in bad shape.”

“Where's Anders?”

“The Magister fled before we could accost him,” Bull growled.

“Magister?”

“Some old ‘vint who was apparently keeping this fellow in poor conditions.”

“If he wasn’t with Anders, I need to find him.”

“Where are you going?”

“The storm coast.”

“What about Fenris?”

“Put him in my room. I'm not going to be gone long.”

Hawke rides hard and approaches the hut by early evening.

“Anders!  _ Anders _ !” The hut is still empty and is an unoccupied mess, but he can smell the other man.

“I know you're around here somewhere!” The wind picks up, blowing Hawke's hair over his eyes.

He pulls it away, about to go back to his horse and make a wider circle when Anders steps out of the trees.

The mage looks even more worn than he had in Kirkwall, if possible. He's been sleeping in the open, there are leaves in his hair and there's a cat twisted around his ankles.

“If you're looking for an explanation, I can give it,” Anders says.

“Explanation?”

“The hut.” Anders gestures. “I know you went in. You saw.”

“We were curious, but that's not why I'm here.”

“They promised me,” Anders says. “They would never turn to blood magic. They swore.”

“They?”

“I took in apostate mages. I offered shelter, but they turned on me in the end. They said I was a pacifist. Me! A pacifist! I started the damn rebellion.”

“Anders —”

“I had to leave then. I go back sometimes, but what they did just makes me sick.”

“Anders, I came here about Fenris.”

Anders turns his head back to Hawke like a compass needle turning to true north.

“I don't know how you got separated, but they found him with Danarius. I always knew letting that bastard escape was a mistake. He needs you.”

“Do you have any idea what a _ bad _ idea it would be for me to come to Skyhold?”

“Fenris is pregnant.”

Anders’ eyes widen.

“H-he never wanted—we didn't—”

“They were arriving this morning. If we hurry—”

“I don't have a horse…”

“Take mine. Ride ahead. Varric will see to it you're protected. He's with the party that found Fenris.”

Anders picks up the cat and shoves it, hissing and clawing, into his bag. He settles awkwardly on the horse and sets off at a gallop.

It's early morning, in the third or fourth watch, when he arrives.

“Declare yourself!”

Anders squints up at the tentative guard.

“I need to speak with Varric Tethras. I will wait for him.”

It's a long space of minutes he waits. He rubs down the horse as best he can and shifts his pack. Snaggleclaws is not happy with him at all. A low growl rumbles against his back.

Finally the gate opens and Varric slips out.

“Hawke sent me ahead,” Anders says, leading the horse forward.

“I never expected him to actually find you,” Varric says. “Come on.”

“He's clear,” he announces to the guard. “I take responsibility for him.”

“Hawke hadn't seen him—” Anders says, jumping as a stable hand comes forward to take the horse.

“He seems stable, but not good. Danarius—”

Varric mimes the omega’s belly. “He's been in a cell.”

Fenris isn't asleep, but his eyes are closed, arms still pressed to his stomach.

“Fen,” Anders says softly. Fenris’s eyes snap open. He moves, pushing himself up on the nest of bedding to reach for Anders, a movement Anders recognizes as a desperate plea for comfort in the face of pain.

“Shh, I'm here.” He throws himself down beside the elf and holds his head in his hands as Fenris’s thin fingers clutch at Anders’ wrists and flit further up his arms.

Anders presses a kiss to the elf’s forehead and wraps his arms around him.

After a couple minutes, Anders sits up to pull off his squirming pack and release Snaggleclaws, who flees for the empty bed and disappears underneath. Fenris pulls himself closer and deposits his head in Anders’ lap.

After another week, Fenris goes into labor, pained cries muffled in Anders’ chest. Snaggleclaws has forgiven Anders, given that he now gets to share the nest with Anders and the elf, but he retreats now again in the face of all the noise. Anders calms Fenris as best he can with a gentle healing spell, but the ordeal lasts nearly the full day. Anders holds Fenris’s head in his lap as Fenris cries, legs spread and body heaving. Another healer has come to help with the birthing and they are as careful as they can be, but the baby is dead almost as soon as it emerges. Fenris refuses to look at it and instead curls up against Anders’ leg, crying softly. Anders has never seen the omega quite so unguarded or emotional. The other healer has some difficulty cleaning up, having to pry Fenris’s legs apart to clean him. He removes the thick blanket they'd placed under him and leaves the two alone. Anders pulls a blanket over the other's bare skin, which pulses faintly as the lyrium tries to accommodate the pain. Fenris whispers once night falls and the halls fall quiet to tell Anders that he's glad it died.

And no wonder. Anders had been unsure what Fenris would want to do about Danarius’ child, but now the dilemma has been solved for them. It must still be difficult for Fenris, though. He's fallen asleep, exhausted, with his arms wrapped around Anders’ stomach, curled against his back.

Anders feels a stirring in his belly. Now that Fenris is no longer pregnant, Anders feels a desire to reclaim him, to kiss him hard and never let him go again. He knows that his passion for his cause had driven them apart, but he has missed Fenris so much. Being with him again has removed the pain Anders had attributed to his old age. He hadn't realized that the hurt could be remedied. The ache was simply gone, and Anders had been living with it for several years now. He twists around and buries his nose in the white hair and sighs.

He has been still hiding from the war he started, working as much as he can from the shadows, but some mages just can't be reasoned with. They go too far—something Anders never thought he'd admit.

Hawke manages to drag him away from Fenris the next afternoon to meet the Inquisitor.

He had expected to be lectured, but he receives instead an invitation to join.

“Hawke has convinced me to have this conversation,” she says, blue eyes looking over his disheveled appearance.

“I am for mage freedom. And I am against blood magic. And slavery.”

“I want to ensure that our mage friends keep that same opinion. You seem to have a reputation.”

“The last mages I tried to help ended up calling me a pacifist before they went off on this big blood magic ritual.”

“We'll be sure to keep checks and balances in place to prevent such magic from taking place. We don't want to _ control _ mages, but we do want to strongly encourage positive behavior.”

“I'll give it a try, but on the condition that Fenris stays as well.”

“That's that poor elf we found, isn't it? Did he have the child?”

“It died.”

“I'm sorry.”

“He is glad of it. It was forced on him anyway.” Anders shrugs.

“I'll let you go back to him, then. I've arranged for a room now that he is no longer in danger. Will you be sharing it?”

“I will, thank you.”

“It will be ready as soon as you are ready to move.”

Anders thanks her again. Fenris is awake and more active when he returns, having crawled across the floor to try to coax Snaggleclaws from under the bed.

“I didn't realize you had joined the inquisition,” Fenris says.

“I hadn't, but as of today I have.”

“Then I will too. I missed you, mage rights and all.”

“It's been lonely without you,” Anders replies. “Having Justice just isn't the same.”

“Danarius left me alone in my heat,” Fenris says, curling up alongside the Beta he'd come to love so slowly all those years ago. Anders was gentle and careful, passionate and angry at times, fire to Fenris’s ice. And despite all that, he loves him. The future looks brighter with the other man at his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and I hope it wasn't too bad...I enjoyed writing it, somehow. I don't even know. Thanks for your feedback-I'm always wanting to improve.


End file.
